


Inheritance

by sbdrag



Category: Cable and Deadpool, Deadpool (Comics), Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M, ProvidenceLives, it is Deadpool here, lots of pop culture references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-13 03:16:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14741003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sbdrag/pseuds/sbdrag
Summary: Nathan Summers is dead, and to the bafflement of his closest friends and advisers, he's left Providence to Wade Wilson - aka Deadpool.





	Inheritance

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Kingdom](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7773469) by [Surefall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Surefall/pseuds/Surefall). 



> So I started this shortly after reading Surefall's "Kingdom" and honestly I meant to add more and maybe some day I will, but have this for now I guess?

34, 764.

 

Wade crouched on a rooftop, looking over the whole of Providence’s nightlife. Normally, he’d be standing - but he was in a brooding kind of mood, and crouching was definitely more Batman broody than standing. Providence nightlife was pretty low key, all things considered - concerts, late dinners, scientist working on theoretical problems, that kind of thing. None of the nightlife Wade was used to - no hookers, no bar fight, no muggings… it was like he was in some weird alternate dimension where all the good things in life had been taken away.

 

34, 764.

 

It wasn’t that much, if you _really_ thought about it. Hell, there were millions of people living in New York City, a measly couple thousand wasn’t even a blip on the map when it came right down to it. Like, one of those maps were every thousand people were represented by a red dot, and all these countries were just filled to the brim, and out in the middle of the ocean there’s just this tiny little cluster of dots that you maybe think are a mistake cause there’s nothing there and -ok, wait, actually, that’s getting off topic. The point was, it wasn’t a lot of people.

 

34, 764.

 

Wade’s not sure why he kept repeating the number - he knew it by heart, after all. It’s not changing all that rapidly. Though it does add some dramatic effect for the reader, he supposed. There was a shriek below, and he tensed to run over - before realizing it was just some people having fun, and one of their friends had fallen into a big, fancy fountain. Nothing going wrong, everyone was still cool.

 

34, 764.

 

Maybe if he thought it enough times it would change. Because the number used to be one, but that was only if you counted Wade - and Wade usually didn’t count himself, so it was really just zero. He liked when that number was zero. It was a nice round number. Get it, because a circle is - oh, never mind, the joke is ruined. Wade shook his head. He needed to focus on brooding, and the narrator wasn’t helping.

 

34, 764.

 

It was the number of people that lived on Providence - the number of people Cable had left in _his_ care. Him, Wade Winston Wilson, Deadpool, the Merc with a Mouth, the last person anyone trusted with anything - they barely even trusted him to kill the things they hired him to kill. Yet, here he was, Nathan Summer’s heir, in charge of his entire island.

 

34, 7-

 

Wade perked up his ears. That sounded like… crying? He jumped from the rooftop, using his mad parkour skills to get to a nearby window. He peeked inside, then stopped. It was a hospital room, and inside, a nurse was handing a bloody little lump of ugly to a sweaty, red faced woman. They were both crying, but the baby was louder.

 

34, 76 _5_.

 

Wade sighed, dropping down to the ground. He put his thumbs in his utility belt, and started walking back home through the well lit, clean streets or Providence. He was responsible for 34, 765 lives.

 

And he didn’t have a single fucking clue where to start.

 

* * *

 

Fortunately, Irene Merryweather _did_.

 

“If you’re going to be the one in charge, you should use Nathan’s office.” The woman crossed her arms, standing in the doorway to the apartment Wade had shared with the late ruler of Providence.

 

“Hu-wha?” Wade was in a pair of boxers and a tee shirt, with his mask on. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, not sure he was actually awake.

 

“And you should wear a suit - an _actual_ suit, not the Deadpool suit. I know Nathan liked to walk around in his future outfit, but he didn’t have to prove he knew what he was doing to anyone. You have your work cut out for you.” Irene held up a clipboard, and started following down it with a pen. “I’ve cancelled all the appointments Nate had for the next week, but I don’t think we can put things off further than that. We have a security review at ten and John had a few specific concerns to bring up -  mainly concerning _you_ , rather than the island, so it’s nothing to be worried about. Then there are reports on Natha- _your_ desk detailing possible global threats and any other interesting-”

 

“Whoa whoa whoa, slow down for a minute!” Wade held up his hands, waving them for added effect. “Um, Earth to Irene? What _are_ you talking about?”

 

“Your responsibilities as the leader of Providence.” The former reporter looked up at him. Though her appearance was professional as alway, her eyes were a little red, and she was sporting light bags under them. “Nathan _did_ leave Providence to you, didn’t he?”

 

“I mean, yeah, but…” Wade scratched the back of his head. “You… you actually want me to _do_ things?”

 

Irene put her hands on her hips. “Honestly? I think Nathan - actually, I don’t know _what_ Nathan was thinking. Leaving Providence to _you_? You can barely take care of yourself, nonetheless 35,000 people.”

 

“34, 765.” Wade ducked his head at her glare, as if it were a physical blow.

 

“Regardless of the number, Nathan picked the absolute _worst_ person for the job.” Irene sighed, closing her eyes. She put a hand to her forehead. “Big lunk always had too much faith in people.”

 

“It was his one weakness.” Wade hung his head, scuffing the ground with his foot. He didn’t say that he meant _he_ was Nathan’s biggest weakness - always disappointing him, making him clean up Deadpool’s messes… he shook his head. Irene was right - he was the _worst_ person to run Providence.

 

“But he did pick you.” The woman looked at her watch. “And I’ll be _damned_ if I don’t see his last will and testament carried out - but I won’t let it ruin Providence, either. I’ll be with you every step of the way, Wilson - so get dressed, before we’re late to the security briefing.”

 

Wade looked up and blinked in surprise. “You’re helping me?”

 

“Only so that you don’t screw this up like everything else. Clothes. Now.”

 

The mercenary cum island ruler stared then laughed and pulled the woman into a hug.

 

“Wade!”

 

“I miss him too.”

 

Irene stopped struggling, eyes widening in surprise.

 

Wade swallowed, too afraid to face the woman. “I don’t know why he left Providence to me - you’re right, I’m a terrible choice. But...  I’m still going to try. For Nate.”

 

Irene sighed softly, then hesitantly returned the hug. Thinking of Nathan, her eyes started to water - so she pushed the mercenary away, turning to wipe at her eyes. “Then get dressed already, so we can started.”

 

Wade didn’t mention the teary reaction, but closed the door and went to do as he was bid. He was glad that the recap pages had had that talk show host theme, otherwise he wouldn’t have had a suit to put on. As it was, he donned the only suit he owned - was it too formal for a business suit? Oh well, better too formal than not formal enough, right? There was probably a rule about that somewhere. He left the Deadpool mask, though - no one wanted to see his face, of that he was sure.

 

“Ready to get this trainwreck started!” Wade declared happily, opening the door.

 

Irene smacked him in the head with her clipboard. “Don’t write us off before we’ve even gotten started. Now come on - I’ll show you the way we _walk_ on the island.”

 

* * *

 

 

“We can’t seriously be leaving the island in _his_ care.” Prester John pointed accusingly. “He murdered a man!”

 

“Just one!” Wade held out his hands. “And he was a _bad guy_ \- considering my track record, that’s pretty damn good.”

 

Prester John’s glare indicated he was not impressed.

 

Irene stepped between them. “I understand your concerns, John, but Nathan _did_ leave Providence in Wade’s care. Look - he even wore a suit. A _real_ suit.”

 

“Yeah! I’m at least trying to _look_ like I know what I’m doing!” Wade paused, brows furrowing as he frowned. “Wait, I don’t think that came out right…”

 

John rolled his eyes. “Yes, of course, we should blindly put our faith in a _madman_ because he’s wearing a _suit._ ”

 

“Would it be better if I wore a bad toupee? And if I cut my hands off, they would grow back tiny and-”

 

“I’m not saying we trust Wade.” Irene cut him off - in fact, she was ignoring him completely, eyes locked with John. “I’m saying we _support_ him. Providence was never run by just one man - it belongs to all of us. That was how Nathan wanted it to be. Wade’s name being on the deed doesn’t change that.”

 

John continued to glare, then heaved a sigh. “Fine. But the minute he puts Providence in danger, I’m going to remove him - forcibly.”

 

“Ooooh, please tell me it’ll be using the Stellar Rod.” Wade clapped his hands together. “I always wondered what it felt like to-”

 

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Irene finally turned her attention to her boss.

 

“I’m your boss.” Wade _just_ realized he was Irene’s boss. And Prester John’s. And… a lot of people, actually.

 

Irene face palmed. “Please tell me you didn’t just figure that out now.”

 

“What? No, that would dumb.” Wade whistled innocently - innocent whistling _always_ worked, after all.

 

Irene sighed, shaking her head. “Let’s just get the security review done.”

 

Wade pumped his fist - another success for innocent whistling.

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m… actually surprised.” John stroked his chin.

 

“That would be so much cooler if you had a beard as impressive as your moustache.” Wade went to take a drink of coffee.

 

“Mask, Wade.” Irene arched a brow in… was that amusement? No, it couldn’t be - that was an expression she saved for Cable, not Wade.

 

“I knew that.” Wade rolled up the bottom of his mask, _then_ drank some coffee.

 

John sighed. “I will take these security measures under advisement - I’m not sure how feasible laser sharks are-”

 

“They’re sharks! With frickin’ _laser beams_!” Wade couldn’t resist adding, swinging his arms out and spilling coffee. Oops.

 

“-but some of these are… actually good ideas.”

 

“Hey, when you’ve broken into as many places as I have - wait, did you just say I had _good_ ideas?”

 

John shook his head. “Don’t let it go to your head - I’ll be escorting you off the island by the end of the week.”

 

“Come on, Wade - we have more work to do.” Irene turned, headed out of the building. “The pile of papers on your desk isn’t going to get smaller here.”

 

“Papers? Like, actual _paper_?” Wade trailed after, tossing the coffee mug back into the room without a care.

 

Prester John caught it before it hit the ground, glaring in annoyance.

 

Irene snorted. “Yes, actual paper - why are you surprised?”

 

“I figured with all your hippy dippy save the environment crap you’d be all digital.” Wade scrunched up close behind Irene as they hit the street - he felt like everyone was looking at him, and didn’t want the attention. At least, not when he was outside of the suit and destined to destroy all their hopes and dreams.

 

Irene opened her mouth - then paused. “That’s… actually not a bad idea, now that you mention it.” She jotted something down on her clipboard.  “It might take a while to implement, but-”

 

“Excuse me.” A young woman walked up to them, holding hands with a little girl. “You’re… Mr. Wilson, right? The one who’s in charge now?”

 

Irene looked over her shoulder at Wade, arching an expectant brow.

 

Wade tapped his pointer fingers together like that shy girl in that one anime. (Hey, it had ninjas.) “Uh… yeah, that’s me.”

 

The woman beamed, holding out a hand. “I just wanted to wish you good luck - you were always hanging around with Cable, I figured you already know all about us, right?”

 

Wade looked at her hand, then his gloved hand nervously. He reached out and shook. “Uh, not really. I mean, I may have glanced through some immigration records, but I didn’t-”

 

The woman laughed. “I meant on the whole, not individually. I’m Ophelia - my dad was an English professor who loved Shakespeare, if you’re wondering.” She took back her hand, stepping behind the little girl and putting her hands on her shoulders. “And this is my daughter, Jeanne - I like medieval France better.”

 

“Hi.” The girl held out her hand, too.

 

Wade gingerly stepped out from behind Irene, and shook Jeanne’s hand - it felt so small and fragile in his hand. “Hi, Jeanne.”

 

“Why are you wearing gloves?” Jeanne asked, revealing a gap in her teeth on one side.

 

Wade took his hand back - then threw both up and shook them. “Because they’re antibacterial - they keep my hands clean!”

 

“Oh.” Jeanne tilted her head, unabashed.

 

Ophelia smiled. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Wilson.”

 

“Uh, you too.” Wade scratched the back of his neck as they walked away.

 

“Antibacterial?” Irene started walking again.

 

“Well, they _do_ keep my hands clean.” Wade caught up to her, but didn’t stand as close as he had before.

 

Irene smiled, and shook her head.

 

They were greeted five more times, but no one else approached to introduce themselves. All, however, were well wishers - Wade wasn’t sure whether to feel happy that these people believed in him, or depressed that he would ultimately disappoint them. Well, like the little girl in the taco commercial, why not both?

 

* * *

 

“Sweet baby Captain America wrestling an eagle.” Wade gaped at stack of papers on Nathan’s - on _his_ desk. It wasn’t like it was flowing off the table or anything, but it was still a large stack.

 

“Why would Captain America be wrestling an - never mind, don’t answer.” Irene took a seat in front of the desk. “Let’s get started - let me know if there’s anything you don’t understand.”

 

Wade gulped. He slid around the side of the desk, and hesitantly lowered himself into the Big Chair. He laid his palms flat on the desk.

 

This is where he did it - this was where Nathan had run an entire country of his own creation. Ok, actually, he ran the island from everywhere, but this was the _official_ island-country running location. And now it was where _Wade_ ran an entire country from.

 

“Wade.”

 

The island/country leader looked up.

 

Irene pointed her pen at the stack of papers.

 

Oh, right. He was supposed to be reading those.

 

He pulled the first one off the top of the pile and stared at it. He’d say he started reading it, but that would really just be a lie. All the words were nice and neat, like an army of black and white soldiers in formation on the page. Nice, cyrillic soldiers in the snows of Siberia. “Uh, Irene?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I don’t read communist.”

 

Irene frowned, then stood and leaned over the desk. She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Russia isn’t the only country that uses the cyrillic alphabet, Wade.”

 

“Yeah, but it’s the most likely one to be on this desk.” Wade glanced at the next paper on the pile. Well, at least it was in English.

 

“You have a point.” Irene took the paper, sliding to the other end of the desk. “Just move anything else you can’t read over here, and we’ll get it translated later.”

 

Wade nodded agreeably, taking the next paper on the stack.

 

Irene sat back down, looking through her own papers.

 

“Uh, Irene?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I don’t know what this is.”

 

Irene sighed. “It’s going to be a long day.”

 

Wade could agree to that wholeheartedly.


End file.
